listening: city and color

today i turn 40.

in spite of the fact that i've been trying to prepare myself for this day for months, perhaps years, i don't belive i'm any more prepared to accept it today than i was any of the many yesterdays. it simply seems not possible.

but here it is nonetheless. and the reality is, if you look at my birth certificate, then it's true that i am closer to beginning retirement than i am the day i began high school. and the person who lives inside this four decade old body hardly seems a day over 21 most days...some days she even has the remarkable ability to revert back to an 8 year old, but we won't talk about that today. :-) 40 still seems foreign, not that it's bad, it's just an age, a season of life that belongs to someone else...perhaps someone with a bit more maturity...?

it has been a remarkable four decades, i must admit that, filled with so many truly spectacular memories and people and places...that if all i got was these 40 years, i couldn't begin to complain.

as humans, we have a tendancy to look for patterns where there could be none...and with that, i know where i stand today, the road behind me is more characterized by beginnings, and the road ahead will no doubt be marked with more endings.

but this one thing i know: that given all i've been given by God, and using history as a guide, i could never hope for an ordinary existence. so today, i will be 40. but i'll be 40 as only i am equipped to be, and i'll go to Paris in 18 days, and i will continue to laugh and grow and learn with the amazing people in my life, and i will continue to search out the beginnings and firsts that i can jump into wholeheartedly, and i will endeavor to embrace the endings that will surely come with all the grace i have within me, and some from beyond.

here we go...



talking with rhanda tonight i was reminded of something that happened recently that is forcing me to rethink some things.

a few weeks ago, i was on my way downtown to a seminar. let me start by saying the fact that i was running unbelievably late was all my doing, no one else to blame. and it was late, 8:54am to be exact, and the one express train that would get me to the convention centre on time was leaving at 9:08am, i still hadn't purchased my ticket...and there was not a parking space left at the clarkson GO station. i'd already driven around, and nothing. zippo. nada. nice try. i didn't have time to actually drive down & park & make it on time, so i was really out of options.

now, i've always held to the belief that if i'm going to bring something to God in prayer, it will be worthy of his time. secretly, i've always been a bit annoyed at people who ask for prayer for things like to help them find their keys, or for a test that they decided not to study for, but to go out the night before, or other things that i may deem trivial. seriously, i would think that God has more important things on his agenda than helping us out of our poor organization or bad judgement situations. seriously.

so, the frustration was mounting as i circled back around the parking lot, and as the clock turned to 8:55am, somewhere from the depths of my soul came the words, "God, i could use a little help here," as i was turning a corner. then, at that moment, right before me, there was a beautifully free spot, waiting for my little car.

what do you say at that point? the 'thank you' i incredulously said seemed so feebly inadequate, especially since i've always held that God was much too busy to have to deal with parking spots. i was suitably humbled.

may i stay there.


listening: kelly clarkson :-) & train
reading: the rest of God (buchanan) still...

i realized today that it's been a while since i did any blogging (is that a word?) :-)

it's funny, most of the time i can find so many reasons not to write, even though i know that i need to, in order to keep from becoming a stranger to myself, to sort out the constant monologue running through my head, to just get it all on paper. sometimes my reasons for not writing are valid, like when i visited auschwitz, both times. even now, i feel so inadequate to write anything, and when i sit down to try, i am overwhelmed by the sadness and tragedy of it all.

but most of the time, my reasons are merely excuses, the most common being that i feel as though my words will never do justice to how i'm feeling...that incessant internal editor, that insists on writing nothing over writing anything less than absolutely perfect.


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